


Behind Blue Eyes

by NoUmbrella



Category: SKAM (France)
Genre: 20h27, 9h17, Eliott is falling hard and fast, Eliott is very intense, Eliott's POV, Five senses trope, Le premier, Love at First Sight, Lucas is a ray of sunshine, M/M, Phase de latence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-18
Updated: 2019-09-20
Packaged: 2020-07-07 23:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,470
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19860082
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NoUmbrella/pseuds/NoUmbrella
Summary: How Eliott falls in love with Lucas through sight, touch, taste, and so on.





	1. Sight

**Author's Note:**

> I recommend listening to "Rain, in your black eyes" (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rVpMluGD4Sc) and if I did my job right, it should end at 7 min.

Eliott walks into the school and tries his best not to pay attention to the stares. He is used to them, no matter the reason: whether people stare at him for being the rumored crazy kid, wondering if he will get transfered, or in this case, being the new kid no one knows. Eliott knows them all.

He sees girls stopping their chat to look at him, already forming judgement in their minds. He turns the volume up on his phone, music blasting louder and shutting the outside world away. He keeps walking towards the principal's office as he was asked to. Something about schedules to adjust and then books to collect. Will he even fit here? He thought he had at his last school. He had friends, or so he believed, he had started to feel grounded and safe... And it was snatched away from his hands in the blink of an eye. Will history repeat itself? Do some people here already know about him. Is that why the girls stopped talking so abruptly when he came into sight?

His steps falter and he grasps his backpack's strap to ground himself. He can do this. This fresh start, another one. He can try to fit in, but not too much. Getting close to people is leaving the door open to the inevitable hurt that comes with the fear and rejection he has gotten used to. He can hide in the shadows of his mind, the old friends he sometimes can't control and has no choice but to let take over him. And he can wait, wait for the next storm to collect him and send him spinning so fast and so far nobody will be able to anchor him. No one ever did. The thought drains him of what little energy he had coming in.

He resumes his walk and passes other people lost in their own world. Envy surges inside of him. What can't he be like these kids? Normal, and free. 

Whole. 

Eliott isn't whole, far from it. Eliott is made of so many broken pieces he often wonders how they are still holding together when he feels so weak all the time. His psychologist tells him it's a wonder, something he should be proud of. Cracks aren't weaknesses, she says. They are the living proof that he fought his way through Hell over and over and came back on the other side. Eliott wonders how many more fights he has the energy to win before he shatters completely, before the few sources of happiness keeping him together become bitter and abandon him too. His psychologist also says he mustn't think this way. He has to stay focused on the good things when they are in front of him. When the world starts to fade, he has to focus on the colors. So he tries. He fights one more time, maybe for the last time, his exhausted mind whispers. He tries to see the hideous yellow lockers, the white floors, he tries to remember the girls' clothes. Pink, or was it purple? It barely works, his vision is hazy and his tongue tastes like ash in his mouth. He keeps walking but his feet aren't his own. He's squeezing his backpack so hard he can see his knucles turning white. He doesn't feel them.

The disconnection is so deeply rooted in his brain he almost doesn't feel when his shoulder collides with something, someone. He sees blurred movements from the corner of his eye, a hand waving animatedly and untamed hair floating, catching the light at the end of the hallway. He can hear laughter through his earpiece; bright and distant at the same time. It strikes something deep in his chest, the sound echoing in his head. He takes two more steps before curiosity wins and he turns around.

There is a boy walking out surrounded by his friends. He reminds Eliott of himself a few years ago, before the madness and the heartbreak. Before Eliott can understand what is going on, the world is exploding around him. The boy's hair is golden, a shade lighter than his own. He is wearing a blue jacket and normal jeans. Nothing extraordinary yet Eliott can't look away. His eyes are blue too, Eliott can tell from the growing distance as the group of friends reach the open doors. He can see him laughing, the sound lost to the air as the cello in his ears pick up. His psychologist was wrong. It isn't the colors Eliott has to focus on. As vivid as the rainbow surrounding the boy is, it is the light. The pure and blinding light coming from this boy Eliott can't take his eyes off. Mesmerized, he lets the sunlight wash over him. For the first time in so long, his fingertips are no longer frozen and a spark of clarity washes over him. The maze in his mind shifts and the walls shrink ever so slightly. The boy's hands keep moving, gently hitting his friend and Eliott can almost feel his touch. _Who is he?_

His eyes crinkle as he laughs wider. Eliott wants to smile in response. It takes everything in him not to close his eyes, afraid he will lose a second of what is happening, and bask in the feeling so foreign he had forgotten it existed. The bliss he used to feel when his mother would hold him after a nightmare as a child. The sound of his father playing the piano every night before Eliott went to bed, the lullaby he had composed for him helping him drift into sleep. The soothing joy when he gets lost into art, pencil dancing on its own on the immaculate paper. The calm after a night free of nightmares, floating among dreams trying to keep him inconscious and reality pulling on the other side. Old and disregarded memories that left him with time but coming back full force now, swallowing him whole.

The sight of a stranger walking out of his new school.

Peace, consuming calm flooding his core and mending the cracks if only for ephemeral seconds.

The boy disappears from his sight and Eliott wants to run after him, ask him nonsense to help him find his way through the halls. He wants to be closer and run into the boy's fire. Let it consume him whole, rush through him and destroy him with life, because he is already dreading the cold he knows will flood back. Now that the boy is gone, who is going to protect Eliott from himself? The cold does return a few seconds later but the boy's halo still lingers, dancing in Eliott's bloodstream and shielding him from the ever present ice.

His feet take him to the principal's office but Eliott can barely register all the information the man is feeding him. His mind is still in the hallway and when he walks back through it still thinking about the boy, shock strikes him as can feel warmth seeping into him again. He tries to tone it down, handling very carefully the hope growing inside of him.

He tries as hard as he can because it is an illusion, a dream he can no longer hold onto. He walks out of school, away from the warmth and its danger. He is shaking and tries in vain to control his breathing. He pushes the volume higher again in a desperate attempt to silence his thoughts.

He can picture the broken pieces buzzing, his entire being trembling with the renewed sensation. Hope for a chance, hope for a path bathed in colors and life.

Fuck hope. Eliott barely sleeps that night.

Three weeks later, Eliott walks into the common room and sits down. He can see the boy on his left and instantly hates the crushing desire he has to look at him. Just one look, one look to help him make it through the day. He has seen him in passing, leaving classes or gliding through the hallways. Shots of sunlight, a new kind of mania taking over his brain. Eliott is weak. He turns his head and is met with incandescent light. The boy is staring back at him and Eliott thinks he can see his own fear and awe reflected in his eyes. The fire is back and again, Eliott wants to burn. The boy looks away and the girl he saw on his first day starts talking.

He sees the boy again on his way home and Eliott can barely believe it. They talk, the boy smiles and Eliott sees galaxies in his head. He doesn't care about the danger anymore, not if the boy is there to protect him. He ignores the girl forcing her way between them, the stranger eclipses everything that isn't him.

Later Eliott thinks about drawing a raccoon lying on the grass with headphones on and a content smile. Instead he draws the chocolate bar he shared with the boy and names it after the word they repeated playfully to each other. Chelou. He stares at the drawing and breathes out. That's when he feels it, the calm. His mind is silent and his thoughts are unusually quiet. He tries to remember the last time he felt this light, this weigthless. He fails. He has been heavy and drifting for so long he almost didn't recognize the foreign sensation. He puts his pencil down and takes his head in his hands, grasping at his hair. He laughs, unbided and disbelieving. Minutes pass and Eliott doesn't move, afraid the feeling will disappear if he disrupts the silence. In his mind, he reaches out to touch the golden cloud and wishes with everything he has it won't vanish.

It doesn't.

Eliott breathes in deep and exhales. Is it safe? Can he risk another piece of himself being destroyed in the aftermath of what he knows will happen without a doubt? The boy's face appears behind his eyelids and a world Eliott didn't know existed unfolds inside of him. A world of endless conversations and neverending laughter. Eliott is floating again, this time wide awake. The feeling so powerful it could overtake him. Eliott wants to drown in it.

He smiles, full of euphoria and picks up his pencil. It is too late to turn back now, too late to ignore the hope growing again in his chest. Eliott hugs it close, scared that someone, something will take it away from him. He doesn't want to let it go. He is pretty sure he can't. He takes another sheet of paper and starts drawing again. He is too fast. Nothing takes form the way he wants. His fingers are too abrupt, too full of energy and life. Eliott bursts in laughter and the sound is a stranger to his ears. He can't remember the last time he was this free. He presses down with too much force and the lead breaks. Nothing works. Eliott is getting desperate. His fingers won't cooperate, not understanding the urgency his brain is sending them. He throws away five sheets before forcing himself to dive back into it. The pencil is dancing on the paper again, blackening its white surface with barely controled frenzy and Eliott almost messes up his sixth attempt in his haste to see the final result. His soul is vibrating with the need to grasp what hit him a few minutes ago. This way, Eliott can own it. This way, he can forge it into reality and make it his.

Dark lines keep appearing on the sheet, and he can taste the familiar ecstasy that possesses him when his art transcribes his thoughts. Eliott's entire being is being reborn under that pencil.

Moments later, he puts it down and stares at the drawing.

In front of his eyes are two small pieces of broken glass, the ones he pictures at the very foundation of himself, merging back together. Safe, solid.

_Whole._


	2. Touch/Feel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> How Lucas, touching Lucas and Lucas' touch make Eliott feel.

Eliott is very proud of himself. When he saw Lucas at the bus stop and managed to convince him to go to his place and get the beers he needed, his hands didn't shake, his eyelids didn't switch, his mouth didn't babble nonsense that would have undoubtedly made Lucas leave. So yes, Eliott is very proud of himself. Because all this means that Lucas, the boy with the golden hair and the fireworks in his eyes, is now standing in Eliott's living room, staring at Eliott's old drawings. It also means he can make fun of his raccoon self but Eliott can't be mad, not with how Lucas' eyes tease him, glistening with mischief.

“And what about me? How would draw _me_? ”

The question startles Eliott. Lucas is looking at him with those wide, round blue eyes. Time stills and Eliott sinks into their abbyss. For what feels to him as an endless fall but only lasts short-lived seconds, he can't tell anymore which way is up or down, where the surface is or if he will hit the bottom of the ocean that is the boy in front of him soon. The oxygen in Lucas' breath doesn't reach his own mouth and Eliott's chest constricts but he keeps his gaze clear and steady. He drinks and swallows, letting the coldness of the beer travel inside of him and give him a sparkle of focus. He grasps at the bottle and holds it up a little to hide his mouth. His eyes cast a quick look at his feet, anything to gain time.

“Dunno. I have to think about it. ”

As the words escape, a tiny ball of spitfire appears in his mind. He tucks the idea in a corner of his brain and saves it for later, for the freedom of silence and solitude where his thoughts can run free.

*

They are high. No other word for it, Lucas' stash is a good third empty and the room is being drowned in smoke, the white ghosts of their breaths dancing above their heads and rocking them in a hazy embrace to the beat of the record playing soflty in the corner of the room. The music stops and Lucas stares at his lips. Want surges into Eliott's chest and he has to dig his fingers into the cushion and concentrate on the rough material not to lean over and taste Lucas' parted mouth. He feigns being too lazy to move so Lucas gets up and Eliott can breathe deeper.

They banter as Lucas hovers at the piano before sitting down in front of the instrument. A beat passes where the air feels weightless and comfortable. Safe.

Lucas starts playing and Eliott's entire world stops spinning, narrowing down to the small miracle unfolding in front of him. The music under Lucas' fingers fills up Eliott's brain and all he can do is stare. Stare at the back of the boy who just turned his life upside down, shattered Eliott's heart and ment it back together, completely unaware of his inner turmoil.

Lucas' hands move on the keys but Eliott can almost feel them grazing his own skin, carressing every nerve ending his body posesses, pressing against the moles on his arms, back, cheeks. Eliott breathes in the notes Lucas is letting fly from the piano, his blood sings a song he hasn't even heard before this very moment but has the power to guide the heartbeat inside his chest.

Lucas turns around, hesitation and doubt written all over his face and Eliott smiles. Pure, unbided, mirroring the love that is making his heart race so, so fast he can't help but fear Lucas will see right through him and fear the intensity Eliott exudes. He doesn't. Lucas' expression clears as he answers to Eliott's smile and his attentions turns to the piano again, leaving Eliott on his own.

He can sense Lucas' music coursing through him again, rushing through his veins. It runs down his spine, along his arms and tingles his knuckles. Murmurs of fear, doubt, and a desire so great to be loved evey note is satured by its desperate cry. Even without closing his eyes, Eliott can picture his fingers joining Lucas' on the keys; the way they would brush against the whites and the blacks, melting into one to write their own melody and the heat they would create, threatening to burst into flame and set them on fire.

Eliott is hypnotized. His heart expends beyond the limit Eliott thought existed and gives shelter to the sound and all the love that is now associated to its music, and its owner.

Lucas' hands stop playing and silence invades the room. The spell breaks, Eliott comes back to himself, heart still drumming to the melody slowly disappearing into the air above them. They stare at each other and exchange light words and Eliott hope they can both feel it, that he isn't the only one with a pleading heart, begging for the echo of his call to be answered on the other side. He lets the sensation wash over him and revels in the feeling of the connection taking root inside him, a livewire reaching for Lucas. His phones vibrates on the table and he curses internally. He refuses to let the moment come to an end, to let Lucas slip through his fingers and return to the real world.

He does anyway.

As Lucas stands on his doorstep with way too many beer bottles hugged to his chest, Eliott allows himself one moment of weakness. He takes a small step forward into the light of the hallway and tugs on a strand of Lucas' hair. Smooth, perfect.

Eliott shuts the door and bangs the back of his head against it, his heart longing for the boy who inhabited his place with such vibrance he will see his renmants in every corner. As he grabs his jacket and tries to focus, hope surges through him. Hope of a new horizon, bursting colors and bright laughter. Eliott's hands itch to draw, to ink Lucas into his reality. If he could, he would draw for hours. Instead he goes out and kisses Lucille without tasting hers lips. All his mind can focus on is a boy with spiky hair playing the piano under a blooming cherry tree. Lucas is soft, featherlight breeze full of nature awaking after the cold died. Lucas is a promise.

When he comes home, he spots the forgotten scarf on his couch. He sets it aside with a small smile dancing on his lips and starts drawing piano keys, black and white, the same ones that still resonate underneath his skin and make his heart thrill.

« Suprenant » just like he told Lucas earlier when he was seeking approval and reassurance. _Surprenant_ indeed.

**

Scarf in hand, he leaves the classroom with jumping steps. He spots Lucas in the middle of the school ground, surrounded by his friends. His hair spikes up, exactly like last night, and Eliott's fingers draw the now familiar pattern of a small hedgehog on its owner's scarf.

When he makes his way to Lucas, spring blooms in his chest and his heart beats wild at the thought of talking to him again, meeting his friends and existing outside of the walls of his living room. Soft pink flowers waltz in his head and carress his cheeks. Maybe he isn't all alone here anymore. He smiles.

Lucas turns around and Eliott's heart goes blue, dropping to his stomach.

“Thanks dude.”

Lucas won't meet his eyes and cuts their conversation short, lying through his teeth yet still looking at Eliott like a skittish animal caught in flashlights. He can tell the friends are surprised, unsettled but as he keeps his stare on Lucas, realisation and acceptance collide at the same time. He knows that look, that erratic fear.

Eliott gives up.

There is nothing he can do against shame so he slips away, walking in the dust of what he thought could have been.

**

The party is already in full swing when they arrive. Warm bodies dancing under the fluorescent lights, floods of alcohol passing from hands to hands in different bottles. Lucille insisted on coming, saying it would be nice to see his new school and the people in his class. As if Eliott himself knew anyone there, but in a last effort to try and rekindle what he knows has been shredding for a long time now, he had agreed. Her hand feels cold in his, sending uncomfortable shivers along his spine despite the overheated room they are making their way further into. This is what Lucille is to him now, a cold December wind, freezing enough to numb the loneliness slowly eating at Eliott with each passing day. He had thought he had find a new spark but.

Lucille tugs on his hand and puts it around her shoulders as they keep exploring. Eliott's eyes land on two shorter figures and his body stings at the sight of Lucas dancing with a girl. He leads them to the duo and thinks that, if he is going to rip off Lucas from himself, he might as well do it now.

“Hey dude.”

Eliott's eyes are full of cold mirth, half of his face hiding behind a black mask. The girl, Chloé, introduces herself and Eliott despises her. wishing he was indifferent instead. He can feel Lucas looking at him as he goes to hang his coat, melting between the sweaty mess of already drunk teenagers with Lucille still plastered to his side. Eliott hasn't felt a teenager in a very long time. He looses track of time and dances with Lucille, doing his best to have fun and enjoy himself. There is a neon color necklace illuminating his black shirt and making Lucille's face glow, but her hazel eyes are dull and her smile doesn't make his heart jump the way it used to. As hard as he has been trying, Lucille has been fading from his mind and his heart for longer than he wants to admit.

The change of music brings him back to the now. He has been sneaking glances from the corner of his vision to Lucas since their brief encounter, he can't help it. The band aid is still secure, molding into his skin, impossible to rip off. Eliott is a sucker for pain and dark desires, no matter how painful and brutal the fall.

The boy is dancing with Chloé, trying to follow her lead and it would make Eliott burst with fondness if Lucas would just grand him the right. As the masochist he is, Eliott watches as their faces get closer and their lips brush. It goes on for one press, two, and Eliott's heart sets on their beat, before Lucas' eyes open abruptly and strike into his. Challenge, fear, _want_ , travel on the wire between them Eliott thought severed and he smirks as the pieces come into place to let him see the bigger picture of all their interactions since the moment they met. A closet he can take down, demolish every wooden secret one by one until Lucas can see the truth of what they could be.

He brings his still smiling mouth to Lucille and kisses her like he would kiss Lucas' lips : open and pressing, wet and gentle. Mirroring Lucas' previous move, he opens his eyes only to find him adverting his gaze as they meet. And so it goes, they kiss without lips, they taste, pull, nip without even touching. As Eliott lowers his head to deepen the kiss, Lucas tilts his head up to follow his lead. Eliott is once again sucked into Lucas' world but this time, the burning eyes of the other boy keep him afloat.

The lights keep breaking their connection but Eliott doesn't even notice. The only thing he can see is Lucas. The only thing he can _feel_ is Lucas.

The music stops without warning, the room comes back to its normal light settings and the moment shatters between them. One very frantic girl and her friend rush them out of the school, yelling about being caught. Eliott grabs Lucille, still looking over at Lucas. The school empties qucikly, every student running fot their lives. He lets Lucille's hand go and loses her on purpose in the crowd. He sees Lucas staying behind, searching for someone and Eliott's heart hammers against his ribcage at the thought of that someone being _him_.

He grabs his sleeves and sends them tumbling into the thick glass mosaïque wall behind them. Out of breath, they laugh and Eliott feels himself cooling down.

“Come on, I'll walk you home.”

Lucas' steps fall into his, and Eliott's feet tangle in moondust.

They talk, and talk, and talk some more. About Eliott's relationship, about Lucas' girl who Eliott hates with each passing second.

“She's so into me it's making me nervous.”

Eliott swallows a huff. _I'm into you, does that make you nervous?_ he wants to say. Instead, he lays his cards on the table, explains how his couple has met its expiration date. Lucas' barely concealed curiosity makes him soar so he shrugs out « not necessarily a girl though » and revels in the way Lucas' snaps in his direction.

They arrive at the bottom of Lucas' flat and Eliott's whole body lights up with anticipation.

“This is where we say goodnight then.”

He knows he sounds like a cliché from a bad romcom but all his game has been reduced to nothing and all he can think about is craddling Lucas' face in his hand, drag his thumbs against the apple of his soft cheeks and taste him for real. Night blue pools bore into him, luring Eliott in closer but he barely has time to lower his head before they hear a feminine voice from the other side of the street, breaking the moment.

This is really where they say goodnight then.

Eliott walks back home, frustrated and elated at the same time. Hope finds a home again in a tiny, tiny corner of himself and unfolds very slowly, afraid and tentative, yet so strong and certain.

Spring has come.

**

Eliott tried. He gave it his whole. He woke up in the morning, dizzy with want to the perspective of spending the afternoon with Lucas, sharing his passion with the boy and give back a piece of what he had stolen from him the other night. He had a bite for breakfast, mouth chewing hastly and trembling with nerves. He managed to brush his teeth and put on his jeans before the pressure in his mind became too much.

As he wakes up later that night, the whole day lost to him and wasted into nothingness, he can barely recall his mother tucking him into bed and tracing his cheek with gentle fingers. All he can remember is his head being crushed under the weight of hysteria and agony, a thousand needles piercing into his skull, his limbs airlight and dragging him underground at the same time, too heavy for his body to control.

He grabs his phone and chews on his bottom lip so hard blood floods his mouth when he reads Lucas' texts.

Lucas doesn't even exist in Eliott's life canva yet. He is fleeting smiles, stolen « almosts » and silent « what ifs » slipping through Eliott's fingers like sand as he itched to get closer.

Eliott types a thousand apologies, sends none of them. Instead, he slowly pads to his desk and draws himself as he feels : lost and engulfed in darkness and fear, tangled in a web of doubt and helplesness. He uploads the picture on instagram, knowing it won't reach Lucas because this too, is a secret. His phone comes alive with an incoming call from Lucille. It goes to voicemail after five rings, Eliott deletes the message without listening to it. Lucille is a ghost limb, a familiar presence in Eliott's life he isn't afraid anymore to admit has been severed already and doesn't know how to let go of completely. He throws an imaginary dime in an equally imaginary fountain and wishes for simple, easy. He wishes for _normalcy._ He prays, pleads, begs only to be mocked by a deafening and endless silence.

Eliott stares at the wall in front of him, where a chocolate bar drawing is hanging, next to the piano keys from the other night. He shakes his head and his thoughts dissolve in his brain. Wisfhul thinking has only gotten him so far. Looking at his phone again, Eliott goes back to his bed and lies still under the covers, stuck in the maze of his mind with no lighting trail to guide him out. He deletes Lucas' texts before they can leave a permanent imprint, tatooed forever behind his eyelids to remind him of how broken and damaged he is.

He goes to sleep again, lost and weak and his dreams whisper in his ear that he should give up and realse them both from his twisted mind before it is too late. Too late for Eliott to make it out in less than a thousand pieces scattered all over his already troubled path.

 _If you love someone, set them free._ Or something.

**

When he returns to school with dark creases under his eyes and guilt pooling low in his stomach, he almost doesn't dare talking to Lucas. He gets a grip and gathers his courage after his maths class, so bored out his mind he spent the whole hour trying to find the right words to apologize and still convince Lucas not to scrap him like dirt under his shoe.

He glides through the hallway and spots Lucas in the distance. He stops shorts, that Chloé girl is with him. He has already let Lucas down once and he owes him a decent apology so he powers through his insecurities and walks up to them.

“Can I talk to you for a sec?”

A blind man could see the way his eyes harden the moment Lucas circles Chloé's shoulders, Eliott himsef can feel the blood draining from his face.

“In order to redeem myself I thought we could hang out at my place. Beers, joint, your turn to pick the music.”

The wire trembles and Lucas comes back to him. The way his blue eyes shine is the only reason Eliott doesn't go on a « they will never find your body when I'm done with you » type of killing spree as soon as Chloé speaks about plans that end up in double dates.

He knows Lucille will be down for this. He also knows he should break up with her, for good this time around, before they both end up bruised but something holds him back and sews his lips shut or halts his fingers whenever he tries to.

**

“That's because I'm dating an older guy." brags Chloé as she throws an arm over Lucas' shoulder.

Lucas, who has the nerve to look Eliott's way with innoncent and searching orbs. There is a question in his eyes that Eliott's furious ones answer without room for doubt. If Eliott thought he had been jealous earlier in the hallway, then the pit of Hell has built a home in his living room and Lilith made his couch her new playground.

Eliott counts on the alcohol again to help gather himself and focus. Next to him, Lucille's presence does nothing to stop his bones from quaking and his blood to boil. He can sense the air brushing his upper arm and fights a shiver of frustration, of jealousy.

Driving Lucille out of the room only upsets him further. He drops his head and touches his chin to his chest before taking a breath. When he raises his head again, Lucas' gaze is already looking for his, puzzled and a little embarrassed.

“I'm sorry. You shouldn't have seen that. It's just... I didn't think tonight would go like this.”

“How did you think it'd go?”

The pure innocence in the pools staring at him help the knots in his throat loosen and Eliott can feel himself settle slightly. A small but playful smile stretches his lips and he can't help but taste the waters.

« As we'd planned, 'course. I thought it'd be you and I. Didn't you?" His chin challenges Lucas. He can see the boy hesitating, unsure of admitting the truth, of owning what he truly wants and make a step towards it.

“… yes.”

Eliott's chest tightens with delight and he gives in to the desire to invade the boy's world, to have him steal another piece of his own.

“Let's go.”

The devil dances on the edge of his smile as he taunts Lucas.

“What, now?”

“Yes now.”

“But where are we going?”

Darkness beckons Eliott from a familiar corner of his mind and for that split-second of delicious madness, he embraces it.

“You'll see.”

Lucas' answering smile scorches Eliott from the inside out.

They close the door quietly behind them not to alarm the girls and run down the stairs, shaking with laughter as they start running on the streets.

**

The forest is quiet as they make their way through it, leaves sticking to their shoes and pillowing their steps.

“It's my favorite place in the city. It's where I come when I want to be alone.”

“You take people where you want to be alone?”

Eliott smiles, fully aware of the conundrum he just dropped in Lucas' lap.

“This is special though. And... you're the first.”

Here. Now. Him. Eliott's cards are almost all face up, naked to Lucas' eye to witness, at the mercy of his hands to either accept as his own or dismiss as he pleases.

“Not even Lucille?”

If Eliott's hand could talk, he would grab Lucas' hand in his and let the pulse at the tip of his fingers speak every truth he holds and make Lucas see how no one until him has dug their way underneath his skin and left the same mark he did.

He simpy repeats “The first.” _and only_ , he doesn't add. “We're here.”

Eliott is home.

He welcomes Lucas in, embraces the pitch black tunnel he has spent countless hours in, scraped at its every walls and filled them with ink, tears, rage. Blood.

He circles around Lucas as a bird of prey, waiting for his victim to bare his neck and surrender to the tension exuding and vibrating between them.

“D'you like it? Or are you afraid?”

“Me? Afraid?” Lucas scoffs.

“You _are_ with a mec chelou after all.”

They tease each other back and forth as Eliott keeps walking in circles. He shuts the flashlight once, twice and is delighted by the way Lucas’ voice trembles when he calls for him.

He edges closer to Lucas, both their faces illuminated from beneath their chins. Gone are Eliott’s teasing and Lucas’ panicked voice. Eliott steps close and invades Lucas’ air, feels the boy’s breath hit his face.

Nothing holds more truth than the fierce will laced with fear in Lucas' eyes when they lift from the ground the closer Eliott gets. Gone are their flirty smiles, full of games and pretense. But Eliott can't kiss Lucas here, hidden and at the mercy of the crawling shadows his mind has set free to find shelter in every corner and wall over time. So he flees, he kills the light once more. He runs out of the tunnel with silent steps and hears Lucas calling for him. He stands still as the rain drenches him to the bone and waits for Lucas to turn around and see him which he does within a few seconds. It lasts long enough for Eliott to be soaked through but the warm glow on Lucas' face shields him from the cold. He walks over and stops at the limit where the rain can't fall, the thick leaves above his head creating a natural protection.

“Don't tell me you're scared of a little rain now too?”

He sees him taking a breath and curling his lips before he raises his open hands towards Eliott. And the world just, shifts from under him. Eliott's thoughts are derailed as his creation, his dreams and hopes and passion come alive before his very eyes, at the tip Lucas' fingers who has no idea he once again shattered Eliott into so many pieces he doubts he will ever get them all back together.

_Surprenant_ , Eliott's mind whispers as he raises his own hands to link their fingers and press their palms together. This, this is not surprenant. This is earth shattering and the breath is knocked out of his chest from the realisation that Lucas knows  _him._ Lucas saw Polaris, saw  _Eliott_ and somehow grasped what it meant to him. Eliott has no word, song or trace of ink to translate the way his entire being strums from this knowledge.

They remain this way, hands aligned and eyes drowned in each other long enough for Eliott to notice droplets running down his nose and into the line of his lips. They don't move, they don't talk and Eliott questions how he is able to function when Lucas has stolen all the oxygen in his bloodstream. The only air seems to be emaning from Lucas' mouth; slowly tilting up the longer they stare at each other. Eliott can feel the pressure building in his head again, begging him to give in to the fury Lucas has awakened in his mind since the first time they met.

The boy in front of him shuffles on his feet a second before Eliott sees a spark of determination flash through his eyes. _Catch me, please._ Eliott does. Lucas launches himself at him and all Eliott can do is meet him in the middle, arms encircling him as he finally tastes what he has been craving for so, so long. His mind falls into the welcoming madness, willing and overjoyed.

And when he closes his mouth over the entancing boy in front of him with the soundless forest as their witness, the taste of rain, plush green trees and Lucas' sugar sweet breath melt deep into his bones, setting him ablaze. His mind is a raging hurricane, barely allowing him to feel the strands of hair his hands run through and the skin he touches in a haze. Close, closer, always closer. He wants to posess Lucas the same way he took hold of his soul with a simple press of lips. His blood boils in his veins and turns into molten lava, his whole being burning brighter as Lucas' hands tug at his hair in return. Their tongues tangle and Eliott looses touch with reality. His feet planted on the wet ground, the rain soaking his clothes and chilling his bones... he doesn't register any of it. His only anchor, his only guiding light to shore in this inferno is its very reason itself. So Eliott surrenders. He surrenders to the fire, to the lightning coursing on his skin and to the beautiful, beautiful boy in his arms. Around them, winter has spread its icy wings but with Lucas breathing summer into his lungs, Eliott has never felt warmer.

They somehow manage to seperate long enough to make the conscious decision to go back to Lucas' flat. Their clothes are dripping on the bus' floor and Eliott can see the driver throwing them disapproving looks. Eliott couldn't care less. All he can focus on, evertyhing his mind is set on is the feel of Lucas' fingers playing with his own, his lips brushing tender kisses to his knuckles. Flammes lick at the pit of Eliott's stomach and he curls himself into Lucas' side. They drive into the silent and ignorant city to the storm rushing through his mind. Once more, Eliott closes his eyes and lets the fire consume him.

**

They lie facing each other on Lucas' bed, the sheets soft and light on his skin, it reminds Eliott of the August air at the beginning of the day, when the sun is still hiding behind the morning clouds. His feet are tangled with Lucas', their legs resting still between them. The only movements disrupting this perfect image are their mouths moving together to a rhythm only their minds know. Their hands roam over each other's bodies, mapping out curves and pointy bones. Eliott wants to memorize Lucas' skin with his fingertips, let his nails graze his shoulders, the dimples in his back, the sensitive hair around his nipples. He wants to leave traces, fingertips of memories of what was and the promise of what is yet to come. His hand dives beneath Lucas' shirt and warmth shoots through his entire arm, burning with a simple touch. Lucas kisses his nose and Eliott laughs out a symphony.

“Am I your first?”

“My first what?”

“You first guy.”

Eliott tries to tone down the agony rising inside his chest at the thought. Lucas is pure, Lucas is lightning in his bloodstream and featherlight brushes of gentle fingers against his shivering skin. Lucas is his to touch, his to carress. The honnor granted to him is so big already it makes Eliott feel small. He prays to a God he knows nothing about to be the first man whose lips make Lucas tremble. Afraid of the intensity of his own thoughts, Eliott keeps his face calm and collected, playful even.

He keeps his eyes fixed on Lucas' who tries to avoid his gaze. Lucas chuckles as an answer and Eliott's happiness is made of a million songs. The tidal wave returns to shore and the storm that had been crushing Eliott's ribcage from the moment they first kissed dissipates.

Eliott presses his mouth to Lucas' again and lets himself spiral down, under Lucas' spell, at the mercy of his kisses and his wandering touch. In this moment, a piece of Eliott reaches out and finds a home next to Lucas' heart.

“What did you think when you first saw me in the common room?”

“I thought, this guy for sure is afraid of the dark.”

“Fuck off, 'm not scared of the dark!” Lucas flips him off and the laughs they share dig its way deeper into Eliott's heart. Lucas is lying above him, caging Eliott's body not to let him escape. But Eliott has no intention of escaping. Eliott is his prisonner, waiting for the verdict of his heart to be spoken.

As Eliott confesses _I only saw you_ , actually, Lucas' hold on him tightens. His hand tugs at his hair with more force and his thighs jump against Eliott's. The only words being spoken after that aren't released out loud.

He kisses his way up along Lucas' spine as if to say _I've been waiting for you for so long._ He pushes his body on Lucas' lines in a whispered _You are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen._ His tongue licks at the roof of the boy's mouth in a silent scream _Give me shelter. Please don't le met go._

Lucas switches their position and silences Eliott for good as the trails down his stomach : down, low, _lower._ Wet heat engulfs him, Eliott burns.

*

Lucas lies on his stomach, Eliott spooned on his back. The sheets have been pushed to the floor and they melt info each other instead of burrowing under the covers. Eliott's chin digs a red spot into Lucas' back and there is a dark, almost black bruise blooming on his neck. Possessiveness and pride fill him whole. No more double dates or clingy girlfriends to share this bundle of joy with, his mind thinks with satisfaction.

Lucas is rambling about parallel universes and Eliott is at a loss. Why waste time thinking of what could be when the reality of them is so solid it makes Eliott's head spin. For Eliott, the universe is simple. The universe is now, in the way his fingers draw nothings into Lucas' shoulders, in the way Lucas' breath dictates the beat of his own, making the both of them move in unison.

The universe is them.

When Eliott's phone chimes with a text from Lucille and Lucas' light dims from the hurt Eliott can see spreading inside of him as his lips turn down slightly, he makes the easiest choice he has ever been presented with.

“I'm staying.”

The universe is Lucas' smile and his heat against Eliott's lips.

Later, when Lucas will wake up alone and find the drawing Eliott left on his pillow, he hopes the boy will still feel his body pillowed against his, protecting him from the outside world and creating a haven of their own.

Eliott knows he does.

**

“ _No, I'm telling you it's not like before. It's different this time Lucille. He's different. And I want to be with him, only him_. »

A few moments later, Eliott hungs up the phone and throws it on his bed. He puts his left arm over his face and smiles in the crook of his elbow.

For the first time in a long, long time, Eliott feels free.

**

Eliott can't keep still. He left his english class early, pretending to feel sick, and walked towards Lucas' classroom. He just feels so _happy._ He was happy this morning when he woke up and put on his clothes. He was happy when he left for school and suffered through his classes. And he is happy now, hopping on his feet to see Lucas who he wants to bundle in his arms, hide underneath the soft dark purple duvet on his bed, and never let go of. They could spend tonight watching How to train your dragon on Netflix and share a greasy pizza with bits of apple and peach on it. Or they could put on something random, trade lingering kisses and let their hands and mouths map out their bodies while the TV babbles nonsense in the background. Maybe they can do both, Eliott thinks giddily. He makes his way to Lucas’ classroom and creeps from the window. Immersed in his work Lucas doesn’t notice him so Eliott takes out his phone and send him a text.

_Look out._

He bumps his nose against the cold window and waits for Lucas to join him outside. The boy looks upset so Eliott pulls him in and presses their mouths together, in the middle of the school hallway, out in the open for everyone to see the beautiful picture they paint together. A spark of surprise passes from Lucas’ lips to his but Eliott doesn’t dwell on it, swimming in his own pool of ecstasy to be with him again.

“I told Lucille. About us.”

Lucas doesn’t look happy. Why doesn’t Lucas look happy? Eliott wonders.

“I just don’t want you to be sad… or for it to be my fault.”

How could Eliott ever be sad around Lucas when a simple press of hands or a single eye contact sends Eliott higher than any drug ever did?

Eliott tips his nose to Lucas’ and earns a smile. He asks him if he would tell his parents about them and thinks about calling his own, gone for the next week on a business trip, to update them about what happened since his mother nursed him back to a decent state last Thursday.

He listens as Lucas delves a little into his personal life and his relationship with his parents but his walls go up as he mentions his mother being crazy, going on and on about the apocalypse.

“Don’t worry though, I don’t talk to her.”

“I’m not worried, but why don’t you talk to her?”

Eliott can tell what is coming, knows he is about to fall hard and fast but still can’t help himself. If he is going to crash, he needs the word to ring in his ears as he hits the ground. So he waits, he waits for Lucas’ next sentence to cut off his wings and shoot him down.

“I don’t need crazy people in my life.”

Eliott can pinpoint the moment his mind shuts down and his pulse drops dead. He adverts his eyes and finds refuge on the floor next to Lucas. Is it cliché to say his heart shatters and breaks into a million pieces where there is no other way to describe the haunting pain going through him from the roots of his hair to the tips of his toe?

Lucas closes the distance between them and leans in for a kiss with a smile but Eliott backs away, already hidden behind a wall of bricks so high and thick no one will ever be will be able to tear down or see through.

Not anymore. Not again.

He grips Lucas’ hair to put some distance between them and he can already feel the boy’s absence, a ghost limb his body mourns without understanding the reason a part so precious has been cut off.

“You’re going to be late for class.”

Eliott flees. He retreats into the deepest corner of himself, the one that doesn’t know pain and betrayal, the one where everything is bright and soft. Numb. He allows himself one last look at Lucas, willing himself not to be touched by his confused and lost expression. Shreds of pain screech under his feet and dig imaginary cuts into his soles as he walks away in a field of bleeding memories and forlorn calls for mercy that will never be answered.

He goes home in a haze, cotton and fog enveloping his body. He sits at his desk with mechanic movements. He stares at a blank sheet of paper and wonders if there is a something, anything he can draw to diffuse the hurt still resonating through his every cells, if he can draw out the pain and ink it onto the unstained whiteness.

He looks up and the view of the Lucas’ related drawings almost bring him down to his knees. The chelou chocolate bar, the piano keys, the raindrops twist the knife deeper and speed up the bloodflow rushing out of him and dripping to the floor. He takes them all down and goes to throw them in the trash but his hands won’t cooporate. He locks them in a drawer instead and forces his eyes away from the wooden surface.

In the end he draws the same brick wall that went up during his conversation with Lucas, the tip of his raccoon ears sticking out because no matter how hard he tries, he knows he can never retrieve the pieces of himself he left in Lucas, knows a part of him will still keep watch for a sign, abused by hope of an alternate ending.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (Eliott is very intense about all of this, yes.)
> 
> I'm sorry for any mistake/missing words that could alter you reading. I'll do a thorough edit in the next few days.
> 
> Hope you liked it :)  
> Let me know your thoughts, if you want.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! If you did, or didn't, let me know :)


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